Aftermath And A Wake

Posted on Sat Mar 23rd, 2019 @ 2:15pm by Commander Rita Paris & Captain Enalia Telvan & Lieutenant Commander Thex sh'Zoarhi & Lieutenant Commander Mnhei'sahe Dox & Lieutenant Commander Sonak & Lieutenant Asa Dael & Lieutenant Samuel Clemens XV & Lieutenant Mona Gonadie & Petty Officer 2nd Class Ila Dedjoy & Ahreva Malana & Death & Az'Prel & Kodria Mizu & Hera & Baroness 2nd Class Schwein von Alcott

Mission: Primordial Mysteries
Location: USS Hera, Deck 10, 10-Forward
Timeline: 2396, post Gaia Incident

The threat of Gaia had been averted, as the titan of old was convinced through peaceable means to return from whence she had come. Which would have been quite the victory for the crew of the USS Hera, save that in departing this reality the titan had opened a singularity that was too close for the Hera to avoid, and it would have destroyed her with all hands on board.

Save for the sacrifice of one Yeoman Ila Dedjoy.

Rigging an experimental system for a quantum jump, she had been lost in saving the starship and all aboard, escaping the inexorable pull of a black hole, and catapulting the starship dozens of lightyears distant, where they could now identify Primordius, her counterpart- the devourer of suns.

On the bridge, there was still that sense of urgency that danger and crisis created, but they were safe. Primordius still had over a day before he was close enough to begin devouring the star AL-56972, the ship was out of danger, and the bridge crew, for the most part, were in shock. Commander Paris stepped away from the Science station where she had been conferring with the Chief Science Officer, Lieutenant Sonak. When she stepped into the center of the bridge to speak, her voice was strained and unsteady, but still enough to be heard.

“All of you call your relief. We are going to 10-Forward, and we are raising a drink to Miss Dedjoy. You too, Captain,” the fulsome First Officer indicated. Although she could not order the Captain, it was clear that she expected compliance from all involved.

"Yeah, I agree." Standing, Enalia tugged down on her uniform and turned towards the turbolift. "We have time for that at least. Just let me know when the Commodore finally gets our report."

----------

Minutes later, the bridge crew were all in ten forward and Enalia had liberated the good stuff from behind the bar so they would be able to make a proper toast and was pouring them all fluted glasses of Illaran wine. Raising her glass, she gave the first toast. "To Ila Dedjoy. The best Yeoman a Captain could dream of and savior to this crew more than once."

The assemblage of crewmembers all raised their glasses along with their Captain. The normally boisterous lounge was understandably quiet as the soft blue light of the nearby star flooded in through the curved windows.

Tapping her glass insistently, Rita Paris began to address the bar. "Risk is our business, I've heard it said."

With that, Paris stepped out to begin to walk amongst the crew, as was her wont as she spoke and pontificated. "Risk involves loss, which is what brings us here tonight. Our Yeoman Ila Dedjoy, our doll-eyed mad scientist and keeper of the Captain's secrets, found a way to save us when nothing else was working. In doing so she came into unprotected contact with a quantum surge of energy which left behind her boots and her commbadge."

Shaking her head, Paris folded her hands before her. "Funny thing. Yeoman Dedjoy was terrified of away missions."

"Before we left the hangar, before she even saw the horrors that we were up against when we headed into the section 31 base, she nearly had a breakdown. Her twin sister had died before her in Starfleet, and in a way Ila lived to take her place in destiny. Always, though... she was very afraid of getting killed. Dedjoy knew that not all of the wonders of the universe were wonderful to behold, and that mission was horrifying. But she kept her cool, secured the data and even got the sterilizers online for us. She stayed behind me, stuck close, played it smart and she lived. I got her back safe, just like... just like I promised her I would." At this, Paris couldn't keep a straight face anymore, and started ugly crying, her chin squinched up and her voice rising a bit more in pitch.

But she pressed on.

"All of those technologies she was figuring out, up there in that... that cave of wonders she had... up there in the Intel pod..." Rita struggled for a moment, then as an act of will forcibly returned herself to military decorum, though tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Ila Dedjoy earned her first name on a geological survey where she made a discovery, which made her exceptional amongst her people. She was named for Ilara, the world from which she hailed, which she... worried she would... never see again." Jaw muscles clenching, Rita forced herself to press on. "Geology was her specialized science, and she brought us an age of black crystalline data storage that will make our current capacity seem like child's play. Or as I like to call it, the future." Looking around, Paris stopped to nod at the crew.

Releasing the Starfleet comm badge from her palm where she'd been carrying it, the two towers backing a shiny delta which was slightly scorched, Commander Paris held it up for all to see. "We have a future, thanks to Yeoman Dedjoy, who sacrificed herself willingly to save us all. That means that the lives we lead from here on bear that much more responsibility. Because they gave up their lives for ours. We owe it to them."

Lowering the upraised arm, the anachronistic astronaut stared at the delta, then looked out at the crew. "I won't believe that she's dead. I'll mourn her, and I'll miss her, but I refuse to believe she's dead until we find a body. I've been lost in space myself a time or two, and I'm still here today because people didn't give up on me. So we won't give up on Yeoman Dedjoy. But for now," Paris picked up a drink off the table next to her, that wasn't hers.

"Here's to absent friends."

Glasses were raised throughout the room as the sobering words were repeated by the crew. Holding hands near the windows, Mnhei'sahe Dox tightened her grip on Mona Gonadie's hand as her eyes swelled with tears.

Tapping out a missive to the crew and guests of the Hera alike, Paris did her duty to inform them of the loss of Yeoman Dedjoy, inviting all off-duty personnel and guests of the Hera to attend.

As soon as she finished, the computer piped up in an odd, purring voice. "Commmmandurr Parris, you have a messsage waiting."

"Thank you, computer," Rita replied, wondering if now that she knew, she should call the computer by name. Not professional and would set a bad example- stick to protocol, she decided. Realizing she was without a PaDD, the girl anachronism fished her collapsible hand-held out of her uniform top where she tended to store such things, as she had ample room and no pockets anywhere else on her uniform. Stepping over to a quiet section of the bar, she brought up the message, wondering just whom was sending her a message that was not here.

As the screen flashed to life, Kodria's smiling face appeared, and a sad smile came over the face of the fulsome first officer. The young android from the future had promised to write a series of letters and apparently, this was the first of them to be triggered.

"Hey Aunt Rita!" the young being began enthusiastically with a cheery smile and a wave. "I hope you're doing well. I know you've just faced off with the Titan Gaia and lost a dear friend or you wouldn't be getting this. Hopefully Maru is able to get it to you before you face off against the second Titan. I just want you to know that even though things may seem hopeless, you're right and that you need to trust your feelings. Things aren't over yet, and help will come from the most unlikely of places. Just get that shielding finished soon, ok? Love you!" With that, the screen returned to the normal passive display.

Even in tragedy, there was hope- in this case, from someone who had foreknowledge of the future, to whom she still wrote letters that wouldn't be read for another 90-odd years yet. But the young android she and Dedjoy and Doc had rescued from an abandoned base of horrors came from their future, and she know their lives and adventures well. It warmed Rita's heart that she managed to give hints without specifics- still, even exiled back to the future from whence she had been tossed by time, the bright young woman was trying to help without interfering. Which filled Rita with an oddly parental sort of pride.

Unlike some of the hints Kodria had provided her, this one, however, needed to be shared.




Az'Prel had come to the lounge for a change of scenery and to see how those in this universe lived and while she had no wardrobe, she found the local traditional Vulcan robes comforting, if not defensible. It was difficult not to think of everything tactically, but she was trying. Having just witnessed the entire events of the Gaia incursion, singularity, and the toast was fascinating and educational.

Recognizing the ship's Science Chief, the displaced Vulcan moved over to speak with him in their native Vulcan. "I must admit that I have never before seen such displays of grief over loss. I am myself at a loss over how to process it."

''It is indeed bewilderingly alien,'' the Vulcan confessed. ''Despite their advanced knowledge and enlightenment, emotional species still tend to feel much anxiety for what is but a natural outcome of life; all the more, a risky one such as our own.''

Since they were both apart from the others, he continued speaking in Vulcan.

''That being said, I have observed interacting with them over the years that, because of this fear and denial, they derive much drive and focus. At least in part, it explains why Humans are arguably the most industrious and dynamic spacefaring species we know; of all sentient species, they are relatively short-lived and, in all probability, the most apprehensive about death.''

Az'Prel contemplated this a moment before responding. "The humans of my universe lived short lives as well, but reveled in killing and conquest. However, they too were similarly quite industrious about spreading across the stars in their own way. Perhaps the Terran Empire and this Federation are not that dissimilar, except the way they approach life and death being polar opposites."

''Therefore, that makes them, for all intent and purposes, completely different; except in raw material,'' stated Sonak. ''This is a textbook example of nurture over nature. It is not what you are that matters so much as what you actually do with what yourself. The Federation and Terran Empire comparative study factually destroys superficial notions like racism, sexism, elitism and fatalism; fascinating to be sure.''

"It is indeed a subject to meditate upon," Az'Prel nodded solemnly. "Though I thought the people here weak at first, I see now that what they lack in martial prowess, they compensate for in unity. I have never before slept so well, nor been free of pain. The selflessness and generosity of the people here would be inconceivable to me if I were not witnessing it first hand. Is the entirety of this galaxy of similar stock?"

''We of the Federation believe it is up to each people to choose and fulfill its own destiny the way it best sees fit,'' the Vulcan answered. ''Although some like the Klingons prefer to make it a violent one, and others like the Romulans to play the Game of Deceit and Guile, it is this attitude of recognized freedom, within the limits of what does not prove detrimental to others, that gives the Federation it's peace and prosperity. Not fearing an assassin's dagger or a conqueror at your doorstep certainly contributes to such success, individually and as a whole.''

He lifted his glass of Altair water between them.

''Never confuse softness with weakness. Look at water. Water is soft, shapeless, formless, plying itself to any recipient or crack, absorbing and changing with any temperature. Yet always remains what it is; the simplest and most abundant molecule in the universe, able to interact with almost all other substances. It can flow and it can crash, slide over soft clay or erode the hardest rock. That is what best exemplifies true strength; that is the kind of strength you find in the United Federation of Planets.''

The displaced Vulcan woman bowed respectfully. "Thank you for the enlightenment. I will use your lessons to become stronger and further my own studies toward integration into this society."

''And perhaps, you yourself could eventually enlighten me, as to how our people fared in this universe of yours,'' Sonak prompted. ''We do have a dark part of our history and of our soul. Ignoring it would be as illogical as denying it. What you and your kind went through, how you coped with it to survive and perhaps prosper, that would undoubtebly help us understanding ourselves better; the first step to true wisdom and fulfillment.''




Walking from the bar to a small table in the far corner of the lounge where Mona was waiting, Mnhei'sahe Dox had two drinks in her hands and her head hung low. The first was an iced tea for her Miradonian mate, the second a glass of lehe'jhme juice.

The red-headed Romulan pilot had been making a concerted effort to curb her drinking, and wanted to redouble that effort under the circumstances. Drinking just made her wallow in her own sadness, self-pity and self-destructive thoughts and she didn't need any help with that at the moment. Taking the seat that kept her back to the assemblage of her fellow crewmembers, Dox sat down and gave Mona her drink silently.

Mona placed one hand on her love's hand and squeezed it gently. She could still feel the bond, but it was faint - probably because of what they had all just been through. "Things will get better."

That she could feel anything at all gave Dox a little bit of comfort. Speaking softly so as to not disturb anyone else, she looked down at their hands. "I think Gaia... did something. Hera said that 8th Gate in my head was unclosable. But I feel like maybe Gaia slammed it shut when she pulled out of my head. This... this is all I can feel other than my own thoughts now."

Then Dox looked away, staring at her own drink, wishing she had just gotten something... anything... hard. She was embarrassed at her own self-absorbed words. "Sorry. It's hardly important now, I guess, considering..." A tear ran down her face as she thought of Ila.

"To me, you're the most important." Mona reached up and brushed away her Minay's tears before pulling her love closer so they could rest their heads together and stare out the window together. "And besides, as long as we remember her and honor her, Ila isn't truly gone, is she?"

Struggling to think of something to say, Dox found nothing. No important words that would mean anything. No thoughtful observations that could yank the sting out of her heart. So she just spoke.

"I keep thinking about when I first met her. I mean, for real." Dox sniffed as she spoke. "The first time we talked... it was that day. It was when Anansi was here trying to get that helmet. He... he got to her first. Trapped her in her own head. We had barely spoken before it happened."

Clutching Mona's hand tighter, the young Romulan woman shut her eyes, desperate to feel the warm blue glow of her Love's inner light the way she could before. Feeling only a hint of it's strength through her broken mind only made her sadder as she spoke. "I dragged her, unconscious, through the ship. Got her away from him... but afterwards... When it was all over... we really didn't speak. I don't know why. Now it's just another lost opportunity. A missed connection that's gone forever."

Openly crying now, Dox held Mona as tight as she could, whispering. "What else is this mission going to take away?"

"Those are the hardest losses to come to terms with - those where we barely knew the person and they were right there. You always meant to get to know them and you always thought you had time." Mona squeezed her love tighter, trying to hold the two of them together.

"I worked with her on several of my projects and she was always there to lend a hand. Every time I was stuck on something, It seemed she always had some sort of mad scientist solution ready for me. The basis for the Thunderchicken variable flight frame was an old archive blueprint she dug out of the vault in the pod. When she asked for help with that Quantum Displacement Drive's navigation system, I jumped at the chance to help her."

Mona thrummed softly as she spoke. We'll get our bond back up to full strength and when we do, I promise I'll share these memories with you, Minay. Okay?"

A weak, whispered, "Okay." was all Mnhei'sahe could squeak out. She was feeling overwhelmed by all of it. By her sadness, guilt, pain, loneliness and shame. She desperately wanted to feel nothing as she put the thought of a drink out of her mind and instead tried to focus on Mona's thrumming. That sound and sensation that brought her so much comfort that she so desperately needed at that moment. She could feel that, and it was a rare good feeling that she clung to.

The brightly plumed Moradonian snuggled with her mate and thrummed softly as they both just sat there and focussed on each other while everything else in the lounge went on as normal around them.





Hera had been escorted to the lounge to celebrate and had partaken of the Illaran's homeworld's wine, enjoying it as she joined Doctor Asa Dael. "I would like to say that the sting of loss lessens over time, but one as bright as she... No, if you ever stop feeling loss as painfully as this, then it's time to step back and figure out when you've become an evil goddess."

Snuffling softly, Asa rested their head on Hera’s shoulder. In their grief, some of the professional decorum had fallen away, and Asa was just another sad, lost person.

“I… I don’t think I’m in danger of that,” they responded. “Every death hurts. This one… this feels like I’m ripping my own guts out. How do I do this? How do I keep getting this hurt and then keep loving?”

After wiping away a tear, they concluded in a soft voice, “She deserved better than this. She deserved to live, and I feel like I failed her.”

Hera pulled Asa into a tight hug, patting the Doctor's head tenderly. "One thing I've learned in all my years is that when one sacrifices themselves for a greater good, it's never that the survivors failed. It's that they felt there was no other choice and that they were willing to do this for those they left behind. The best thing we can do now is to remember that pain and honor her memory by living on."

Returning the hug, Asa snuffled a moment before saying, “At least I have you here. It’s…daunting… to know how many years are ahead of me, and knowing that most of the people that are so dear to me now will be lost in the blink of an eye. Even the longer lived ones like Mnhei’sahe…..they are all gone so soon. I never understood why the elders warned young El-Aurians to stay distant from other peoples, but I begin to see it now. I think they were trying to save us from this pain, but that’s a cop out too, isn’t it? I can’t imagine my life without any of you, and I’m determined to cherish the time I have with each of them. Still… it’s nice to know I won’t be alone in 500 years’ time. You know?”

Hera nodded, wiping the tears from Asa's eyes. "I can't promise to always be here, but I'll do my best. My people supposedly only live around a quarter of a million cycles and I've burnt through a fifth of that so far. I've gotten to know a lot of people along the way though, and you know what? Every one of them has been unique in some way. Not getting to know them would have been a waste."

“Yeah, I… I wish I knew Ila better. I always thought there would be more time. Pretty dumb, huh?” Asa whispered.

"It is when we think we have time when we lose the most. One of my biggest regrets is not spending enough time with my mortal children. They live a lot longer than most, but in the end, they too grew old and passed on before I realized it." Hera spoke softly as she cradled Asa tenderly. "When I died that first time, I was actually relieved. I thought I could see them again, but my people's souls are destined for a different afterlife, it seems."

"So if it is dumb, we all fall into that fallacy."

“Oh Hera,” Asa said, “I’m so sorry. You… you don’t still feel that way do you? Relieved? You would tell me if you did, right? I might be able to help… I can at least listen. I would love to hear about your children. I’m sure they made you proud.”

Concerned their friend was harboring hurts that would continue to wound her, Asa felt keenly what it was like to miss family as well. Hoping to provide a bit of comfort, they sent a tendril of their mental energy towards Hera, a gentle kiss of the mind brushing against the goddess’s psyche, a simple hello and a hug they were not sure could be perceived, but hoped it could.

Hera felt it and was appreciative, physically returning the comfort she felt. "I'll tell you all about them later, okay? I'll admit I wasn't the most kind to my step children, but I loved them as well. For now, let's enjoy the time we do have together, find those that fear death, and help them live better."





Samuel Clemens, the man of mystery, stood alone, a glass of non-replicated 180 proof Missouri corn whiskey in his hand, sipped but once, during the toast to the yeoman he'd gotten to know while she and he had combed the Vault for illicit and secret Section 31 hardware that might be used against the goddess Hera, so long ago that she had been a deadly enemy.

Had it really been such a short time, he mused to himself, remembering the polite and brilliant young keeper of secrets and her lack of distress at being so close to such powerful and legendary devices. He held out similar hope that she was merely off discovering a strange new realm, seeking out new minerals, and new crystallizations.

And then, he saw her. Not Ila. Lady Death. She was standing alone, looking out of the viewport lining the entire later wall of the Ten Forward section.

He slowly approached her, and came to a stop nearby, looking outward toward the azure-tinted inner asteroid belt. "D'yuh s'pose she's out theah, explorin' this unf'miliyuh tableau? Still kyuryus, still kawnk'rihn new gnaw'lej?"

Clemens looked to the right, head tilted slightly, making it clear that it wasn't a mere conversational gambit.

The pale woman stared up at Clemens for a moment, deciding how to answer that question. "I honestly don't know. I just know that I haven't collected and she's no longer within my sight."

The piercing blue eyes looked down into those of the avatar of a universal force, doing what he was best at- seeking truth. After an eternity/moment, he was satisfied, but genuinely-puzzled. He lowered his voice. "So- it wuz huh time, but she's… lawst?"

"Lost to my powers at least. I'll have to confer with the others. As for it being her time... That I will keep my own council on, but this was not what I saw." Death never lied - she couldn't in her line of work. But in this case at least, she felt it best to at least not reveal all the cards she had seen. She then glanced over her shoulder at the bar. "Hey... Since so few people can see me and the computer barely recognizes me... Do you think you could snag me a fruit juice or something? No alcohol please."

The man with the golden tongue smiled at the diminutive powerhouse, nodding, "Fuh yew, m'laydeh, ah'move thuh stahs themsaelves."

He made his way toward the refreshment area, a glimmer of hope now bolstered by her very Intel-like answer.

He returned with a tropical mix, with just the tiniest touch of rum extract just for flavor, and presented it to the Incarnation with a small flourish.

"There yuh go, may'uhm."

The pale woman gracefully accepted the drink with a wide smile. "Thank you, kind sir. I greatly appreciate it."

The ginger gentleman bowed from his waist a bit, the ones of his string tie remaining perpendicular to the deck, his ancient finery looking brand-new, though they must have been some 500 years old, if originals.

"It wuz truleh mah pleasyuh, ma'am. Ah've been meaning to thank yuh prawhpuhly, foah assistin' in muh retuhn trip to th'ship. As such, yuh have muh gratitude."

"I merely guided one that was able to facilitate in your return and refused to collect. This crew as a whole is far too entertaining and your loss would have been great." The pale woman sipped at her drink mysteriously as she eyed the southern gentleman with a wink.






Thex hadn't said much. The shock of losing one of the crew combined with coming face to face with a planet killer that made the one stopped by Kirk look like a tadpole was quite the day. Now the andorian poured herself a long drink. Drinking did always help get the emotions out.

Enalia joined her, pouring a drink for herself as well. "So Primordius is a little bit bigger than expected. Who would have thought he'd be a giant, angry, all-consuming, ice cream cone?"

"You know, somehow I'm not surprised. Well, any more than I was when I read the first report and watched the trideo of Commodore Decker ramming the Constellation down it's throat... and that worked. Poor Uncle Matt. He was a good man and a good officer. Losing his entire crew like that destroyed him. I wonder if he's a cautionary tale at the Academy these days?" Flopping herself unceremoniously onto the couch next to the other two women, Rita fished her handheld out of her top and tossed it on the table, before taking a long drink of the double scotch in her hand.

"Little note from my spoilerish niece of the future. It's vague enough to not be Temporal Prime Directive actionable, really just a pep talk from the kid. But you should see it all the same," she declared, taking another drink. At the speed she was going, Rita was headed toward hammered in a hurry. "Proud of that kid..."

Thex had already downed two glasses and was starting on another. "Yeah, and the one he and the Enterprise killed was a tadpole compared to this one. How the hell can we stop something that big?" she said as she downed another half of her glass. She was wracking her brain for another mention of a planet killer. Where she'd heard it, she couldn't remember.

Enalia picked up the PaDD and watched the message. When it was done, she nodded and set it back on the table. "Yeah that's only a little spoilerish. Doesn't tell us much more than to listen to your human guts, really, and I've already been doing that. So... What does your gut tell us about Big P?"

Polishing off the remainder of the synthehol scotch, Rita signaled for another while making a frowny face. While she had learned to accept it, she hated the taste of scotch. But at a wake for the lost, this is what the officers of her day drank, and the tradition gave her some comfort. After all, this wasn’t the first time she’d been in a bar raising a glass to lost comrades, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“I’ve been going over it in my head, and… I don’t know. We could try to reason with him, but… his existence is pure destruction. There’s nowhere in this reality that we could convince him to go that it wouldn’t be problematic, even if we could convince him to leave this galaxy and brave the Galactic Barrier. That would just be shoving our problems onto someone else, who probably also couldn’t deal with it.” As the waiter dropped off the next tumbler of synthetic scotch on the table, Rita picked it up and took another long draught, signaling for another.

“This titan… that neutronium hull is impenetrable. The sheer size of it invalidates most of our weaponry. Phasers won’t scratch it, and the thing eats stars. There is no ‘ram a big explosion down it’s gullet’ solution, because no explosion we could cause could equal the energy output of a star. Photon torpedoes, quantum torpedoes, even Genesis… wait.” The resourceful old officer sat bolt upright, the casual posture she had adopted gone in a flash, as was her synthetic buzz. Eyes wide open and alert, Paris looked around to insure that the command trio had a modicum of privacy. Leaning in conspiratorially, she whispered to the Captain and Second Officer.

“In the armory… when I took it over, there was a secured section, and I was afraid French and Sexton were up to something awful. But there are…” Looking around furtively to insure they were not being overheard, Paris leaned in closer. “There are four Genesis torpedoes in the Intel Pod armory. I’d have to check with Sonak for the science but… that might just do the trick. Just having them onboard I am reasonably certain violates a few peace treaties, and using one might just cause a galactic diplomatic incident. But… that might just work. If we fired all four of them, the wave that can terraform a planet might be sufficient to terraform an entity that consumes stars, if we hit him with it while he was in the act. Because then we know for sure his gullet is open and there is sufficient energy to power any sort of reaction.”

Unconventional, daring and decidedly dangerous; it was the sort of brainstorm the lost navigator was known for, in any era.

"But for all we know, that could make things even worse," Thex said, leaning in closer so others wouldn't hear. She was feeling rather annoyed at finding out there had been a Genesis torpedo barely 100 meters away from her bedroom, but knowing this ship, it wasn't that surprising. "I mean, for all we know it could make it even hungrier."

"If you're suggesting we cancel out his energy using the same energies Gaia was using..." Enalia was about to brush it off, but then sat up as well, her brows furrowed. "We'd need to fire it into his gullet... And some way to guarantee it was tweaked right... Is that what your guts are telling you?"

“If by my guts you mean that weird little part of my brain that babbles crazy plans when there are seemingly no options and all seems lost… yeah.” Rita paused, swirling the scotch around in the tumbler as she considered. “The torpedoes were part of the Section 31 armory, and we inherited them with the pod. Once we had them, disposing of them became problematic- firing them into a sun was no guarantee they might not activate. Disassembling them is nearly as dangerous, so we carried them until a solution presented itself. It might not be the best political move, but stopping him before he consumes another entire system…”

“Computer,“ Rita called out. “Please predict Primordius’ most likely path should he continue consuming the nearest star once he has finished this one, and so forth. How long until he encounters an inhabited and developed system?”

The computer projected a small starscreen, an image of the Alpha quadrant, and a red line projected the course between the stars, moving one to the next to the next. Which led it on a likely projected path to Romulus, then earth, the Andoria, then to Vulcan before Rita called it to a halt.



“Weird side course to Earth, but the computer says so, I'll buy it. So given that Romulus, Earth, Andoria and Vulcan are on the menu, the political fallout might be manageable,” she admitted. “To answer your question, Captain? That’s the best idea I’ve got so far. I’ve been racking my brain since we discovered he and Gaia were yin and yang and that we’d have to face him too. What worked for Gaia we can certainly try with Primordius, but we don’t have the ‘in’ that we had with her, Lieutenant Dox looks pretty miserable over there, so I suspect she might not be up for being the psionic collect call maker. As what passes for our resident diplomat even so I don’t know we can convince him to just go away, since Gaia's retreat didn’t seem to affect him.”

“In short, yes, captain… that’s the best idea that I have so far. If it makes it any easier, I’ll take responsibility for it. I sort of don’t exist, so I will take the political hit for it. If they need to crucify someone for using a Genesis device, it may as well be the gal whose bright idea it was instead of the commanding officer.” While it might seem like a platitude, an offer not intended to be taken, Rita Paris was quite serious. As upsetting as it had been for her to find out about the Genesis project and the fact that such capability was onboard the Hera, she had moved from wild idea to solid plan of action in about a minute. But then, that was most definitively her style.

"If we are going to shoot it with the genesis torpedoes I'll need to take a look at them first. Unless we have a detailed report of them, they may have been lying around in a section 31 warehouse for decades." Thex added, her engineering nature jumping back into the forefront of her head.

“I’ve no objection to that. But bear in mind, Thex, if you inspect them… then you are getting involved,” the gold-clad commander explained. “If the court martial comes round, that would implicate you as well. At this point I can assume responsibility and claim I acted alone… not so much if you inspect them. Not that I wouldn’t be happy for the help, but you have a burgeoning family and a career to think of, Thex. I don’t want you to have your career ruined by my reckless plan.”

"Given the alternatives that could happen, a court-martial seems the least of my worries." Thex said, her own twisted sense of humor causing a grin to form over her face. "Given that if we don't stop it, there may not be a Federation left to have a career in anyway, we don't have much of a choice."

Enalia nodded solemnly at the assessment and finished her drink, waving for a refill. "I have to agree. I'd rather there be someone to have a political crisis with. As for those torpedoes, Ila inspected them and said that they were far more advanced than the prototype that was invented by Doctor Marcus when she briefed me on them." Leaning back on the couch, she sighed heavily. "Dang it, I wish she was here to go over this with us. She actually knew all those secrets up in the pod."

"Yeoman Dedjoy was also all about paperwork. I'm willing to bet she shared all of those files with you regularly in a folder somewhere. The woman was incredibly responsible for someone who dabbled in exotic energies. Whenever I entered and whenever I removed an item from the armory, she noted it, and it was reported." Paris' face squinched up again, her chin receding as a wave of grief washed over her.

"You'd better not be dead, you hear me Dedjoy?" Rita looked around, but there was no ghostly image at the edge of her perception, no electromagnetic pull in a direction. While she had no extrasensory perception when she wasn't piggybacking on Sonak's skills and abilities, the old officer firmly believed she had a feel for the weird. But she didn't feel anything, she didn't see anything. Still, she persisted in her belief. "You'd better be sitting in one of these chairs at your own wake, wondering when and how we're going to find you, and this will all be a funny story that you can tell my kids someday."

"We gave her permission to die... not that we could have stopped her. Security team takes 21 seconds to get into the pod, and that's with a pair of watchmen guarding the lift access. That... that was hard, ma'am. Ain't gonna lie. I mean, that's a life of danger for ya, but... " Rita shook her head.

"In that twenty one seconds, the ship and crew would have been destroyed." Enalia sipped at her fresh drink before continuing. "Sometimes you have to order someone to their deaths to save the ship. That's part of command, and you know it. The safety of the ship has to come first, because without it, there is no safety for the ship. I can guarantee this though. The plaque that I hand carve the names of every crewmember I've lost will have a special place set aside for her name tonight."

“I know, Captain… I know. It just never gets any easier, and I hope it never does. I know you and she were very close… I won’t give up on her, ma’am. Dedjoy was one of the bravest women I’ve ever known, and I refuse to count her out until we’ve exhausted every possibility. So maybe don’t carve that name on the wall of the fallen just yet, ma’am.” As she said that Rita stiffened, wide-eyed as the hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up, and she got that ‘standing too close to a transporter’ feeling.

The spotted Captain easily caught that reaction and recognized it from transporter room security footage and was instantly alert. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

“Damndest thing, I… felt something. I can’t quantify it, but it felt like… like that feeling I get when I get near a transporter, but… different. I think it’s what people say it feels like when someone walks over your grave.” Looking around, Paris quirked an eyebrow in a distinctly Vulcan manner. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper. “Dedjoy, is that you?”

Once again, she felt that same sensation, but just in her right hand. A slow smile spread across her face as Paris narrowed the possibilities. “Tap me on the shoulder twice, slowly?”

As she felt the odd sensation on her shoulder, that smile became a grin of triumph. “You never fail to amaze me, Yeoman. Hang on- we’ll get it worked out and get you back, I swear.” Turning to face the captain, the reconstituted ghost grinned broadly. “We might not have a lot of time, but she’s still here, ma’am. We’ve still got a chance to save her, so don’t count her out just yet!”

Enalia's eyes were as wide as the Hera's saucers. "I guess I won't be carving her name in my plaque just yet. So how do we get her back? Can we get her back?"

"We could try using the transporter. Same way we got Rita back." Thex said as she sprang to her feet. "We should have a copy of her last transport in the log."

“In this case, it’s hard to get a lock on a ghost. So I’d say we try using the Section 31 transporter in the Intel Pod, as it should be able to get a lock on her,” Paris opined, as this was something she knew a little bit about. “Lucky will be happy to help, I’m sure, assuming she didn’t disassemble the S31 transporter to build the quantum leaper she installed. Let’s move, and do it quietly. The fewer people who know what we’re trying, the better, I think.”

Enalia stood and finished her drink, setting the glass aside. "I agree. I'll go apprise the Commodore of our situation and plans while you two head to the S31 transporter. The AI up there has access to all of Ila's notes... Lucky? Is that his name now? I'll update the logs from his software designation of L47-KY. I'm sure he'll grant you access to anything you need."

"I'll get Sonak, because he's the foremost expert in weird transportings thanks to his plucky sidekick over the years, and we'll head for the pod." Rising from the table, Rita was a gal on a mission. "For now, let's keep it quiet... but let's go save Miss Dedjoy."